It's a matter of perception
by Pippa Fowl
Summary: A modern fairy tale in which stereotypes are turned upside down, an Arthurian villain makes an appearance, and love triangles create all kinds of fun. The three main characters will take turns giving their own point of view in rotation.
1. Part 1: Pippa

_Part 1: Pippa, Castle Rhymes_

I glanced down at the courtyard from my windowsill in the west wing for the final sweeping analysis of the grounds below. Now was the time.

The thought of having the constant thorn in my side removed sent a wave of relief through my body and I sprang from my seat with a surprising amount of speed. I walked down the corridors with clenched fists and tried hard not to smile. Being caught was not an option, but if I was caught, I would be damned if it was because I was in a state of suspicious excitement. I scowled at a guard as I passed for good measure and he looked uncomfortably at his feet. I reveled in the power that I wielded over her mindless minions.

Then, from a usually vacant room, I heard a familiar voice asking for reassurance from an inanimate object. "Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all?"

"Talking to mirrors again, are we, Mother?" I asked.

The Queen glowered. "What do you want now, you little wretch?"

"Lovely. You must have turned that charm on just for me."

She flashed a malicious smile, but with the shake of her head returned to her beautiful reflection. It pains me to admit it, but not even I could deny that she was gorgeous. Her skin was snow-white, soft as velvet but shimmered like diamonds. With those ruby red lips and emerald eyes, it was like someone took all the most precious stones in the world and put them together to flawlessly crown her face. Perfect, hard and cutting. Those cold emerald eyes held no feeling for anybody but herself. However, her compelling gaze could convince you otherwise, if you were unwise enough to look straight into them.

A mixture of jealousy and defiance welled up in me. I won't be subject to her games anymore. "Well then, I'll be stepping out for a few days, won't I? See you."

"You can't leave now. Alliances are to be made. The Duke is bringing his nephew, who I hear has grown to be quite handsome."

"_Behave_ yourself with the Duke," I said, and then with a smile, "he's married."

And instead of being insulted my scandalous, yet well-founded warning, her face glazed over and seemed to say, _I do have many admirers, don't I?_ I rolled my eyes and tip toed towards the door, she snapped back into focus.

"Guards!"

Rats.

Two fat old men in armor appeared in the doorway. "Escort the princess to the Tower until her guests arrive, and then escort her to the hall to greet them at the appropriate time. Make sure all doors are locked. She is not to leave for any reason until they arrive."

The guards did as they were told and were surprised that I went without a fight. They seemed unable to come up with any good reason for my lack of struggling or escaping. Not daring to put their heads together for fear they'd produce a hollow noise, I'm sure they dismissed thought altogether. Resistance was futile. Leaving the normal way would attract too much of the wrong attention. Being carried away- only to be left alone shortly thereafter- was actually an ideal situation for me.

The two guards that walked with me were painfully slow. They complained constantly of this ailment or that failing limb. I can be patient, sometimes, when I know things will go my way, but I have no tolerance when it comes to whining adults. I tried to encourage them to move faster by quickening my pace, but they merely grasped my arms tighter with their sweaty hands and dragged their heels more. A plan formulated and I smiled to myself. With my next step, I stuck my right foot out farther than necessary so that it would impede the rhythmic marching of the guard beside me. However, as fate would have it, luck was not on my side for this little venture. The guard toppled over, and -still clutching my arm- pulled me down as well. Naturally, the guard on my left _wo_uld choose _not_ to let go when the two of us fell, and roughly sandwiched me between him and the floor.

"Gwetofome," I gasped from beneath the heavy, middle-aged man.

"What?"

Despite having clearly missed what I said, he had the good grace to roll over to let me speak. Honestly, having a corset constrict the amount of air in my lungs was tiring enough, let alone a two hundred plus guard crushing me. I was lucky I hadn't asphyxiated yet.

"I said remove yourselves from my presence before I have you removed altogether."

"Most humble apologies, your Highness," the one who had landed on me blubbered. "But if you will forgive us, we still must escort you to your room."

I narrowed my eyes, and shot them both threatening glances. "_I_ will be walking to my room. You may follow at your own convenience, but under no circumstances will either of you touch me again, understood?"

They bowed and nodded, sputtering incomprehensible replies. The plan had failed miserably; however, it allowed me to walk alone. Good enough. So, despite my plans' uncanny knack for going completely haywire, they usually do result with some desired end, which I can deal with- no matter the bruises. I turned sharply on my heel and walked away with a spring in my step and a smile on my face.

_The Tower_

After that embarrassing mishap, it took mere minutes to arrive at my destination: my "other" room. At least that is what we call it, to hide the truth from the guests. Anyone who worked in the castle could tell you what it really was: an interrogation cell, a prison, a torture chamber, or, quite possibly, all three at once. Nevertheless, I thought the room was relatively cozy, considering the circumstances. Naturally, no one could ever know my feelings on the subject, or the Queen would hurl me in a real pit of despair.

I threw myself on my bed. I needed to think of the best possible way to escape, so I could start my particularly excellent adventure. My solitary window was the only passageway to the outside world since the door was locked and guarded in more than just a physical way, and there was still that gap of at least a hundred feet between the ground and me.

I needed inspiration, and for this, I went to my wardrobe. No, this wardrobe does not console or advise, like some I know of, but this one was still special. The wardrobe's hinges were rusty and it had been placed in this room purposely for its uselessness. It had been awkwardly made. There was a large area where it looked as if the carpenter had wanted to make a bottom drawer, however, only to realize that he lacked the intelligence to do so, sealed it up, and tried to hide the blunder with wood carvings. I walked over to the wardrobe, opened it, and pushed my way through so that I was half way in and had my hands on the base. I felt around the edges until I found the small hole made by the crack between the back of the wardrobe and the top of the would-be drawer. I stuck my finger into the crack, pulled gently, and watched as the surface panel eventually gave way. I had to remove a lot of the clothes from the wardrobe to capture enough light to be able to read the titles of the books that stared back at me. Luckily, I had been able to smuggle many of my father's books into this room before my mother had decided they were a waste of space.

I hit the bull's eye on my first glance. "Fairy-Tale Escapes for Realistic Individuals: Ways to Make a Meaningful Exodus," I murmured. I had read that one many times before. I had kept it to cheer me up because some of the ways were quite humorous, but today it just might serve another purpose. The thoughts came to me like bean stalks crashing down from the sky. Flutes, Pumpkins, Bread crumbs! No, all those plots require materials from the outside world, and were completely irrelevant to the situation at hand since magic couldn't be used inside the tower. But I was not completely without options. That would be to assume that I lacked imagination.

Trapped in a tower… A plan was forming. I ran over to my bed and stripped off my sheets, and threw them into the small wardrobe. My face composed, I knocked on the door with unnecessary force until it opened slightly.

"Where are all my bed clothes?" I shouted.

The two guards stared at each other with shocked expressions. "We are not in charge of such things, Your Highness," one ventured bravely.

"Well, then you better find out who is and tell them I am missing my sheets and bed curtains, and I expect them in my room as soon as possible." I paused dramatically, but neither of them made any movement. "Now! You're going communicate this message telepathically!"

It took them an hour and a half to get my new sheets. In the meantime, I ripped my original sheets and started tying some of them together. I jumped when I heard the knock on my door. I heard the latch of the lock move, and I shoved my old sheets into the wardrobe. Two maids walked in and started making the bed. I wished I could tell them just to leave them there and that I would do it, but that would make them suspicious. So I just stood there, waiting, knowing that I'd just undo it all as soon as they left. I tapped my foot impatiently and made disgruntled noises until they finally deemed whatever halfway job they had done was sufficient for the night and left.

After ripping and tying together the last of the sheets, I tied the makeshift rope to one of the legs of my bed and then pushed the bed against the wall by to the window. I tied my hair back into a low ponytail and wondered what people would think about my departure. It'd never be the truth. I looked down to see a familiar diamond on my left hand casually winking at me in the moonlight. I attached it to the chain around my neck and tucked it under my dress. After a swift glance out the window, I threw down my many sheets, took a big breath, and began my descent.

* * *

By Royal Decree from Her Royal Majesty, the Queen of Rhymes:

It would please Her Majesty if all able fingered scribes please click the magical link below before leaving her kingdom and inform us how much you enjoyed your brief stay here.

And remember, don't eat the apples.

Signed,

The Royal Guard


	2. Part 2: Victor

_Part 2: Victor, Rhymian Forest_

I had ridden ahead of my uncle in a vain attempt to arrive at the castle before sunset, but I forgot to factor in a couple things. One that my horse would need more rest than usual for a long distance. And secondly, Murphy's Law: anything that can- will go wrong.

A crescent moon shone in the starry sky. Despite the little light that the moon provided, I could see a white strand streaming down the castle tower and barely made out a small figure scaling the last bit. My bets were on the elusive princess, who I was on my way to meet. I don't know why I thought this, but my assumption was soon confirmed when the figure transformed into a large red bird at the foot of the castle, grabbed the homemade rope in her talons, and threw it back through the window from whence it came.

_Huh,_ I thought._ Curious_. What would have prevented her from flying down in first place? Some kind of enchantment that prevented transformation from the inside? Regardless, the why was not important. I was more interested in _where_ she was going.

And so I followed her. Which was much more exciting than sitting around as the Queen flirts with my uncle, and then having them both stare at me. Waiting and listening for the enthralling conversation I should be having with the princess, which never comes because I am so nervous, because they are staring at me!

But I digress.

Sleep was pulling at my eyes. There was no way I could give up after going this far, surely. Finally, she began her descent. I slowed to a trot and got as close as I dared, dismounted and followed on foot. We walked for another hour or two until she decided to lie down and rest for the night in a little meadow. I tied my horse to a nearby tree, and laid down for a little shut eye before I would 'accidently' stumble upon her in the morning. The perfect plan.

However, instead of waking up to the sun's early morning rays through the trees, I awoke to a vision. A vision in blue with long dark hair, pale skin and was standing next to my horse, feeding it an apple.

"Good morning, sunshine," she exclaimed cheerfully.

I yawned and stretched my arms as far as they would extend and answered back with a quiet, "Morning."

She waited for me to continue, but I just stayed, as I was, silent. What do you say when you've been caught following someone? How much did she know?

"Can I help you? Are you lost?"

"No." My reply was soft and sounded juvenile.

"I don't mean to pry, well, yes I do. I'm curious, how did you happen to come out here, to this meadow? It's a bit far from the path."

"Just out exploring. As a part of my duties." Not really a lie; technically the truth, most of the time. I am just out of my regular jurisdiction. "What are you doing in a dark wood all by your lonesome?"

"Oh, I'm just roaming around." She seemed to hesitate and for one anxious moment I thought that I was caught. What if she knew that I had been following her all night? "I woke up this morning and saw you. Actually, I heard your horse first and I thought it was unusual for someone to abandon a horse out here, but then I saw you and you seemed to be wandering all alone. I know these woods pretty well, so, I figured I could be of service, and here I am."

I was a little shocked and offended. This was supposed to be my job, helping lost people from the desolation of the woods. However, she did have the bird's eye view, which was slightly to her advantage, but she didn't know that I knew that… yet.

I said nothing, and despite my unusual predicament, I felt strangely at ease with this girl. Which was really abnormal since it usually takes me quite some time to get comfortable with new people.

"Oh," she said absently. "Where are my manners? We haven't formally introduced ourselves. Who are you?"

I smiled. To be honest, I had forgotten that I knew more about her than she suspected. I liked her already. She was spunky. But to her, I must just be some idiot, lost in the woods, refusing to ask for directions: a stereotypical male. So, I swept her my finest. "Do excuse my manners. The name's Victor James when you're cross, but since we've just met, and I hope that infers we are on good terms, you can just call me Victor."

The sun rose higher in the sky and the rays flooded the forest. She stared at me in the growing light for a brief second, and gave me a weird pondering look as if she knew she had met me before or found my name vaguely familiar. I was mildly disappointed when she did not seem to recognize my name, especially since I gave her my full one. However, I supposed it was childish to hope that she would remember me after ten years. Nevertheless, you would think that a princess would take the time to know the names of her guests… Maybe I had changed a lot.

I suddenly grew hideously self-conscious, but then she laughed.

"My name is Pippa. Do you want to come along for the ride? But I think you should know, after you say yes, there's no going back." She smiled and I could have sworn I heard her murmur under her breath, "or I'd have to kill you."

"By all means," I enthused, not to the killing, of course, but for the ride. "Where are we going?"

"You'll have to wait and see."

* * *

Lying never really suited me. Well, to be fair to myself, I never lied; concealed is more like it. I simply purposefully omitted the truth with the intention to deceive for an undetermined amount of time. I am generally a sincere and truthful person. And this lie grew and festered within me like a deep infected wound.

On the third day, we reached the Retsinis Forest. By that time I had told Pippa a lot about myself, minus the part that I am a prince and I followed her from the castle. I told her about my border control and scouting duties, which explained what I was doing in the woods, albeit far from my usual domain. My father had always told me that the best way to run a kingdom is to know all the ins and outs, and that routine scouting leads to the meeting new friends and informative travelers on the way, especially ones who are always willing to share their story over a pint. My treat, of course.

We followed a clear water stream until we reached the source. Water cascaded from the rock face, creating a small bathing pool, before allowing the rest of the water to travel the great distance to help quench others' thirst. The water gushed and whirled as the glittery diamonds fell from the sky, but other than that small disturbance, the water had a smooth, gentle current. I picked up a relatively flat rock, and skipped it. It skipped three times. I'd done better.

"Ugh, I am so muddy," Pippa complained. "I'm going to go sit on the rocks with my feet in the pool."

She then proceeded to take off her shoes and hop across the big rocks towards the pool. I leaned down to pull of my boots. I had gotten only one boot off when I heard the splash. "Pippa?" No answer. I ventured closer to the pool. There was no sign of her, but the expanding ripples in the water. "Pippa?" I tried again, hysteria already apparent in my voice. If she's just pulling a prank… I dismissed that thought after a minute of absolute silence except the chirping of crickets beside the pool. I pulled off my other boot and ran in the direction of the splash. It wasn't hard to spot the blue fabric billowing beneath the surface. I checked for potentially dangerous rocks and then dove. This was especially the time to be cautious, if we both ended up unconscious under the water, we'd be food for fish, or things of a more repellant nature. My hands reached out in the dark space and I tried to find Pippa. I felt the delicate laces of her corset and wrapped my hand around her waist. I kicked as hard as I could, fighting our increasing water weight. It felt like time was thickening as I finally dragged us out of that pool.

"All clean."

Yes, that was the first thing that came out of that girl's mouth after I saved her. I gawked at her faintly smiling face, and let out a laugh that turned into a cough and a mouthful of water. "Please do not tell me you jumped in on purpose."

"Ok, I won't." She grinned. I groaned. "You're a real decent person Victor, you really do put others before yourself."

Salt in the wound. The deep festering wound gauged into my heart with a needle and thread of lies. I'd sewn the pain in myself. I didn't feel like a decent person while I was still concealing my real identity. The sun was setting and pink and gold rays danced around the contours of her smiling face. "Pippa, I have to tell you something. I'm not-"

She put a finger to my lips. "I know exactly who you are. I'm not completely daft. Don't think for a second that I wouldn't take the time to know every little thing about the guests who come to call." She laughed. "I knew you were coming that night, but I'm really glad we met under these circumstances. Or else we wouldn't have had so much fun together!" Her eyes shifted around. "Well, I'm going to go change."

That night, when my eyes had adjusted, I just laid there and stared at her bare left hand. I suddenly tried to remember all the rumors that had circulated. Was it a change of heart that had all the princes from far and wide coming to 'build future alliances'? Despite the calming affect Pippa's steady breathing might have on most people; I had trouble falling asleep due to the uncontrollable fluttering in my stomach.

* * *

"Son of a bitch!" The distant voice was high, laden with anger, but it was definitely male. I waited quietly with eyes closed for what felt like hours as the footsteps approached. When I felt cold steel against my throat, I reluctantly opened my eyes. It was still dark and the moon above lit the clearing. "Stay where you are," commanded the unfamiliar voice. Luckily for my throat, I found that there weren't many places I needed to be for the time being. However, I tried to somewhat lift myself up a bit, but was forced back down by the unrelenting blade. I heard Pippa scream, and the stranger relaxed the pressure against my jugular. I watched in awe out of the corner of my eye as it took three men to hold Pippa down and the fourth had ropes that he obviously intended on binding her with. It made me feel a little pathetic.

"Who are you? And what do you want?" I spoke before thinking; never a great idea when you are on the verge of death.

"If I were you, I'd stop talking. I'm not particularly pleased with you, and the slightest utterance will probably throw me over the edge."

"I don't-" I started to go exactly against the advice he had just given me, but the sword swiftly moved from my throat to the inside of my mouth. I took that to signal the end of the discussion. The stranger relished my dismay and shook his head with a malicious grin plastered on his face. He pushed aside the hair that had fallen in his face to reveal a pair of vicious dark brown eyes. He stared at the sky and scratched his stubby beard.

"Oh, Discontented Men," he began. "Since this thing refuses to listen to the words of his captor, what should we do first? Cut out his tongue or destroy that pretty face?"

"Oh, stop it." The voice was Pippa's. The stranger rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. A blur of a tiny man flew towards me, and pulled out a small peashooter. Oh, no. I tried to block whatever was flying through the air, but I was too slow. I felt something prick my neck and I tried to smack whatever it was off. I looked down at my hand, and found a tiny dart.

"Ah, still a bit groggy. That dart is under so much pressure that it releases its entire toxin into the blood stream in a matter of seconds. And unfortunately for you, it is a mild paralytic, so sit back and enjoy the show."

My struggles died down, and, as he said I would, I lost all control of my limbs. No one guarded me anymore. I saw their point; it was ridiculous to guard someone who can't move. Good Grimm, I was useless.

Pippa was not faring much better considering she was tied from head to toe. She made one last lunge away from the stranger to no avail.

"Feisty as ever," he smirked, casually brushing long strands of brown hair out of her face.

"And always the gentleman," replied Pippa sardonically through several layers of bondage. "But, do tell me, are you in the habit of not being able to contain the prisoners you capture? The standard of crime must have deteriorated significantly if it takes four armed savages for every defenseless civilian."

Mordred's mouth tightened and lifted a hand to strike, but he clenched his hand and then relaxed back into his soft, easy smile. Mordred's finger slowly traced the outline of Pippa's jaw and gradually descended the front of her neck. He gave her a small kiss on the nape of her neck and ordered his men to leave him alone with his prisoner. Prisoner. Singular. I wasn't even worth counting. How embarrassing.

"You," he continued as if I too had left, "are always the exception." If I had the muscle capacity to throw up, I think I would have. But as it was, I was forced to sit and wait for the drug's effect to wear off. Pippa rolled her eyes. I was dumbfounded. Why was she just standing there?

Oh, and then it hit me. The angry wakeup call… the extreme measures to incapacitate me, while enjoying my misery… Well, bugger me backwards; it was the crazy ex-boyfriend.

I couldn't hear them talking anymore. They spoke too quickly for me to even try to read their lips, but then again, I wasn't that good at lip reading to begin with. They seemed to be having a heated discussion. I could tell that much. I would have to say that Pippa was winning the argument, but I could be a little biased. Something blazed in Pippa's eyes, like real flames, and Mordred took several steps back. Then Pippa's body became consumed by fire in a matter of seconds and the red bird I had seen at the castle emerged and started to fly away.

Mordred made no move to stop her, but merely said, "Interesting choice."

Then he reached down under his bag and pulled out a bow and arrow. He followed her movements briefly and let fly. I didn't see her fall, but I heard it. I heard the smack of the body as it made contact with the ground and the crunch of the bones from the impact. I wanted to cry out, but the cry only resounded in my head. A huge knot began to form in the pit of my stomach and I felt a tugging sensation as if someone had stuck a grappling hook inside me and was trying to rip out my soul. Against all odds, I thought I was going to be sick.

"Fyodor," the voice was smooth and unperturbed. "Fly to her Majesty, and tell her that we have found her daughter and the package will be delivered at the checkpoint."

The little man, the one who had poisoned me, stood at attention in mid air, saluted, and flew off. Mordred turned to the rest of the Discontented Men, who must not have been that far off. "Go get some shut eye, or I'll shut them permanently. Do not mess with me tonight."

I tried my best to rest and calm down, but it was pretty difficult, considering my eyes were paralyzed open. In the end, I ended up counting stars to keep my mind off of the night's events. Mordred had left after he sent the men to bed, so I was all alone.

Counting stars was tedious and tiring. I always lost count, but that was the idea I guess. It should tire you out and you fall asleep. My eyelids started to droop. That was an improvement. I was instantly awake again. I waited impatiently as I gained more and more control of my body. As soon as I was able, I started dragging my useless body in the direction of where Pippa fell. She hadn't gotten that far; she must have tried to get height before distance. A new surge of adrenaline rushed through me when I discovered her and that she was breathing. I searched for her wound, but couldn't find it. Her hand grasped mine.

"You alright?" It was a stupid question, but my voice was hoarse and my lips were still a little stiff, so I was thankful to even croak out at least those two words.

"Who, me?" Pippa smiled affectionately and touched my cold face with her surprisingly warm hands. "Oh, you know, I'm feeling quite chipper actually. In fact, my favorite part was when the arrow pierced me right here-" she said, stroking a raised pink line.

"What happened? How- where?"

"Hey," she said, putting a finger to my lips. "Shh, I'm sorry, I'll explain later. We'll be alright; I'll get us out of here right quick. Stay here, I'll be back."

She crawled off. I closed my eyes, relieved that I could do so again, but there was no way I was going to sleep until we left this place. Eventually, I found that I had recovered the use of most of my limbs. However, I still felt pretty weak. I started to crawl on my hands and knees in the direction I had seen Pippa go, but I stopped dead in my tracks after only going a couple feet. There was Pippa, and to my left was- me? I must have been dreaming; I had never had an out of body experience before. It was very realistic.

"Victor?" I watched from behind some bushes as Dream Me hoppled over to Pippa. Pippa was clutching our combined backpack. I put my arms around her and she nestled her head close to my chest as I pulled her tightly to me.

I leaned my head down, and gave her a kiss on the forehead, "I'm so glad that you're alive." Pippa's returned by kissing the Dream Me on the lips. It was funny, I kind of felt a twinge of jealousy, but that was ridiculous. How could I be envious of myself in a dream? Pippa pulled away and stared intently at Dream Me, especially at my dreamy eyes. She pushed Dream Me away from her and sighed, "Mordred, his eyes are blue, not brown." The Dream Me held tight and flashed a wicked smiled.

I knew that smile, and it's not something my face would ever wear. With a soft chuckle, the body surrounding her, morphed back into its original form. "I don't know if that compliment belongs to me or him. However, I was hoping you'd settle for someone with a little more a backbone. Don't worry, I'll totally forget this little fling when we get back. Second thoughts are natural. Come, your mother is wait-"

But Mordred never got to tell either of us anything about Pippa's mother, because that is when the boy with no backbone got on his feet and grabbed something big. Mordred had turned too late to react to anything. He fell with a resounding thud, and I dropped the now bloody log. It had taken almost all my energy just to get up, let alone pick up something large to hit him with, but it had ended with the desired effect. Unfortunately, with that done, I collapsed to the ground. Pippa ran over to me.

"Promise that you'll explain all this later?" I asked. Pippa smiled and nodded. "Good, let's get out of here."


	3. Part 3:Mordred

**Chapter 3**

**Mordred**

_**Retsinis Forest**_

'_Just find her_,' she said. '_Bring her back_,' she said. '_No, she isn't running away from _you," she said. Like hell. '_All I ask of you is to do one little task, you can handle that?'_' She obviously doesn't know her own daughter, but of course, I knew that. Should have caught on to the fact when my fiancée, apparently now my ex- fiancée, ran away from home the same night before my expected arrival. Coincidence? I think not.

I jutted my elbows back, pushed up my torso, and felt my head swim. _No big deal_, I thought, lowering myself to stop the blood from rushing to my head, _I can crawl_. I rolled onto my stomach and inched forward with my arms.

Something warm dripped down from my temple to my cheek. It had a salty, metallic taste: blood and sweat. I remember; Woodsboy had hit me over the head. Classic. First, the thieving prat stole my girl, and then he fractured my skull- the next Sir Congeniality.

It was still dark when I pulled myself over the flowing roots of a witch tree. My hand slipped on the moss-covered roots and I lost my balance, spiraling down a hill that hadn't existed a moment ago. I rolled at an alarming speed; accumulating leaves as I traveled further and further from where I thought I needed to be. I ended my descent with a rib-crunching collision into a tree.

"Ah ha howw," I groaned. I closed my eyes, and everything went black.

* * *

"Unbelievable," grumbled the Trafalgan king to his wife, "his wife is not laid to rest for five minutes and she goes in for the kill."

"Victor, darling," cooed the queen. "Why don't you go and cheer up little Calista; she is right over there." The two watched as their son ran off and the queen gave her husband a menacing look. She grabbed her protruding belly with one hand and rose, getting to her feet more easily with the help of two additional hands that found their way to her back and elbow. "I don't want you to talk about _her_ when Victor is present," hissed the queen venomously.

"Beg your pardon, my lady," King Dietrich apologized, swept a quick bow and kissed his wife's hand. He looked up at her without shifting his head and still clutching her hand, he gave her a fleeting crooked smile. "I am merely trying to convey to you the danger that poor, miserable Eero is in. Maeve is on the _prowl_."

We all became rigid as a petite woman with blood red lips glided into the hall. Her ebony hair accentuated her pale skin and they watched in horror as her bright green eyes mesmerized the grieving widower. She too was a widow, and her miniature genetic copy, Pippa, stood close to the deceased's child.

Queen Elise cringed as Victor talked animatedly to Pippa, trying to coax her into playing a game. "It's time to go."

Dietrich looked over to see what had caused her so much distress. "That's nothing. I see no harm in that one."

Elise rolled her eyes, marched determinedly across the hall and grabbed Victor's hand. "Victor, it's time to say good-bye. We must be off. You know George and Avery are awaiting our return."

Victor exhaled loudly as children do.

_I would too if my mother lacked that much tact_, I thought.

The embarrassed child turned to his friend, promised to write, and followed his parents out of the hall. Eero broke from Maeve's trance when he saw the Trafalgan royal family leaving. He caught Elise's arm for the last time as she slowly waddled toward the exit.

"Leaving so soon?" he puffed.

"We must. My brother awaits our arrival and I wish to finish the journey by dusk, if possible. I am deeply sorry for your loss."

Eero nodded stone-faced. Elise placed a final kiss on his cheek and departed.

And that was my cue to move in on Maeve while Eero still remembered that he was the host for this event. I had only come per her request and she was ignoring me. I was past bored, and when I got bored, I got murderous. Maeve walked over looking very content.

"This kingdom is as good as mine."

I rolled my eyes. "That's very objective way of thinking. How long is this one going to take?" Then a more pleasant question came to mind and I couldn't hold in my excitement, "Do I get to kill this one too?"

"Longer, and no. I am thinking of keeping this one- he's compliant. You got your compensation for your services rendered for last time. Anything from here on out is completely pro bono." My excitement died instantly. I inched closer and grabbed for her but she backed away. "Don't be a fool. I told you, it's over, and I won't let you ruin this for me. It's happening. If you're bored, go play with the toy I already gave you."

I glanced over at her girl, my consolation prize.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, rays of sunlight were streaming through the trees. The wound on my head had healed itself in the night, but my head was still covered in dried blood and leaves. I tenderly checked my ribs. _Yes_, I thought, flinching a little, there _was_ a bruise. My body looked to have recovered sufficiently and I proceeded to get up. Looks can be deceiving and I regretted the motion. My mind raced with the overpowering images from the night before. I felt nauseated. I grabbed my head, and no matter how hard I squeezed, the thoughts and images of mother and daughter would not pop out. I was different back then- willing to do anything for her love. _Anything_. Turns out that nothing was good enough.

Now that the sun had risen, I could see that I was not too far from an opening, and so I crawled again. I could feel my strength coming back to me as I left the forest and crawled into a field of tall grass. Voices bloomed out of nowhere. I poked my head out when I reached the end of the tall grass and saw a couple was having a picnic. I saw the boy first; he had pale skin and jet-black hair. He was some sort of officer, but the girl was definitely from substantial wealth.

The girl was lying on the boy's lap, next to the empty picnic basket, as he stroked her long blonde hair absentmindedly. She tilted her head heavenwards and smiled. "I love you more than anything in the world."

The boy lowered his head to give her a kiss on the forehead with an expression close to pity, "I know."

I winced. I mean, honestly, with a girl as gorgeous as that laying on your lap, a mute parrot could come up with a better answer. It was time to move in, and save this girl from her misplaced feelings.

"Ahhow," I groaned loudly. I rolled around and wormed myself forward. The girl bolted to my side.

"Oh, dear! You poor thing, what happened to you?"

"I was traveling with my fiancée on my way to Exidor. Her mother is getting married, you see, and some rogue Woodsboy kidnapped her, and beat me within an inch of my life! I only just got away."

It was mostly true.

_**The Harlequin Dome, Exidor**_

I couldn't wipe the smug smile off my face for quite some time.

Princess Calista had fussed for hours over getting me properly situated in the castle. Once she had discovered I was to be her future step-brother-in-law, she was putty in my hand; every whimsical wish granted.

The boy, who had been with her, looked about seventeen, but "boy" didn't accurately describe him. His eyes looked worn and tired, despite his upbeat attitude and there was just something about the pale, raven-haired youth that with was extremely unsettling. He offered me a drink a local pub, and being someone who never turns down free drinks, I followed him gladly.

Our shoes clopped against the pebbled street and echoed in the eerie silence. I was not unduly worried, if he took me into a dark alley, I felt confident that I could take him.

"So," I began. "There must be a lot of perks with working for the princess?"

"It's alright, I mean, there are definitely some tangible benefits. With an added bonus every so often, you know." He winked at me in the moonlight and I watched a smile creep on his lips. He rounded a corner and we ended up in front of a nameless building with no windows. He rapped the door three times, some knocked back twice, and then the boy whistled. Someone inside slid open a rectangular peephole, and a brown bloodshot eye appeared in the opening. Sounds from inside the pub leaked into the street.

The door swung open, and a tall burly man with a bushy beard stepped aside. "Lysander! Long time no see, Ana's in the back."

Lysander rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold assuming I would follow. Catching the eye of the bartender, he tapped his temple twice, his lips once, and indicated that he wanted two of whatever that meant. Well, I guess I was just having whatever he was drinking. I followed his gaze as we sat down, except while his eyes passed over the fiery redhead dancing on tables and laughing freely, mine did not. She caught me staring and walked over in our direction.

She leaned against Lysander and gave me a smile, which caused me to remind myself that, even though we were going through a rough patch, I had a fiancée. "Why hello there. Lysander, who's your friend?"

"Merlin's beard, woman, don't pretend you don't recognize the Midnight Marauder when you see him," he exasperated.

I just stared at both of them. _Like everybody knew_. It had been so long since I had gone by that name; I wondered how he knew who I was, but then he continued, "He was in the woods and I thought you might want to talk to him since you've been practically tracking his every movement since he reemerged into civilization. Oh, and Mordred, this is my sister, Illyana." He said it like it was nothing. Here he is. This is my sister. And by the way she has been stalking you. We shook hands and Illyana pulled up a stool.

"Tell me," she began. "What brings the Midnight Marauder to this fine reputable establishment in heart of the criminal underground?"

I looked around, and noticed for the first time the shady creatures that occupied the surrounding tables: hags, highwaymen, ogres, trolls, and even giants. It was sad I hadn't noticed. "I – he- umm…" I stuttered and trailed off as I stared into her deep, blue fathomless eyes. They sparkled like the ocean, but had the same tired look, of one who watched too many tides come and go.

"Lysander! I do believe we surprised him!"

Lysander gave her a wink. "Sure did. But let's not waste anytime and bring him up to speed."

My eyes passed from Illyana to Lysander and then back to her. She tucked her hair behind her ear. Behind a pointed ear. She smiled. "Listen Mordred, we've heard that you've decided to completely fall off the face of the earth to get over Maeve. We understand that you've needed a decade to get your life in order, but I don't believe it was an accident that you ran into Lysander in the woods. You're meant to help us, and we could really use some of that smoldering expertise you've got hidden in there."

_Oh._ I can't believe it took me this long to put two and two together. They threw me off when they gave me their actual _Fae_ names. I had unknowingly run into the infamous brother-sister duo, twin assassins, the Vixen and the Viper. These two had killed their own parents for practice, and many wannabe mob syndicates studied their tactics as a point of referral, but unfortunately for them, twins don't share.

The Vixen smiled from underneath her hair, but I just took a huge gulp of whatever was in my mug. "Do what?" I cautioned, but then decided better than committing to any involvement. "You guys are good, why do you need me? You two don't miss a beat. While you ensnare the victim, Lysander uses his fine skill to cause enough emotional turmoil, until you what you need and then end their agony, permanently. It's a good system; I don't want to ruin it. I've got plans of my own right now anyway."

"Following that witch's skanky daughter around like a sick puppy?" Illyana's unexpected irritation made me raise an eyebrow, but she shrugged it off. "Everyone has that certain someone they admire and keep tabs on." As if that was an excuse.

Lysander was starting to grow impatient with his sister. "Our plans will no way affect your plans to marry the witch's daughter. You can have her, we just want what should have been ours." Based on their history of undignified behavior, a passer-by would have never suspected that the two villains in front of me were true blue bloods. The rightful rulers of the kingdom of Exidor. I nodded in understanding.

"That's why you cater to the princess' every wish. You're going to marry her, kill her and her family, and take the throne.

They both exchanged wicked troubled me about this plan. "Maeve is marrying the king of Exidor in a fortnight. Are you- Is she- ?"

Both their expressions stayed solidly stoic, except for a second, I swear I saw the edges of Illyana's lips twitch slightly. Lysander answered my question. "Unfortunate casualty, but if you agree to help us, we will spare the young witch."

Illyana shot him a look, and then glared at me. "Why do you want her?"

My stomach churned. _Why_? _Why not_? But they really seemed genuinely interested in my answer. "I didn't mean it to happen. I was pissed at Maeve for blowing my off for Eero, but I wasn't going to give up without a fight. I watched her in the form of small boy. It was easier to spy on her and hide in little places. Then she-" I hesitated over her name. Names wielded power, and none of them had spoken her name yet, as if, if they did, she would suddenly appear magically. "Pippa followed me around the castle. She liked spying on her mother too, helping me gather information when I couldn't access it myself. I screw up once, and out the window she goes."

"Wait," Illyana was taken aback. "She killed herself?"

"Oh, no. She just ran away, and the window was the most convenient exit at the time."

"What happened?" Lysander asked.

"We were on the verge of getting married and someone told her about Maeve and me, which then of course clued her in that I was a Fae and had been deceiving her. I thought she took the news pretty calmly but next thing I knew- it was apparently over. She told me she needed some space so I left, the night before I was to come back, out she went and shacked up with some guy she found in the woods."

"What can she do?" he pressed and I scowled at him. I didn't want to drag her into this more than I had to, but I could see in his eyes that if I didn't tell him, he would find out his own way.

"Simple charms, nothing too exciting, Maeve doesn't let her near her stuff. She's a shape shifter like me, except she changes into animals. She told me once that when she's stressed, she hears voices in her head, so she might also be telepathic."

"Or you could just admit that she's mental," Illyana sneers. I ignore her.

"What's the plan?" Lysander cuts in.

"Well," I started, before draining my mug. "Lysander and I will go back to the castle and see what's going on until the time comes, and if anyone asks, Illyana is my fiancée's lady-in-waiting."

"Emphasis on the waiting, since we don't even know where she is."

The sound of chairs scrapping against the floor loudly filled the air as we all recognized that it is time to go and pushed back on our chairs to leave the table. As we opened the door, the crisp night air blew a gentle breeze our way. It wasn't late enough that the streets were empty, and I scanned the local business establishments, in case there was anything good. Meat, a barber, knick-knacks, a black smith, more knick-knacks, and _Oh, hello_. I grabbed Illyana's wrist, and hid myself in the shadows. I looked to Lysander for help. "Do me a favor, and look over there. Describe what you see in front of that pawn shop."

Illyana stared hard into the distance, but I kept her in the shadow with me. I didn't want it to look suspicious or that we were ganging up on them. "I see a small, pale girl with long dark hair with a boy. They are both pretty young looking. The girl is handing the boy something and he just walked into the building alone. She must be the lookout."

I pressed my fingers to my temples. "Ok here's what we need to do. I am going to speak with her, but before I show myself, Lysander, you go upstairs in case she runs for the boy. Illyana, you walk up the street to cut her off in case she decides to ditch him. Use force if necessary, don't let her size deceive you. Got it?"

They both grinned; I knew cat and mouse chases were their specialties. I waited for them to get in position before slinking through the shadows. She was looking the other way when I sidled up next to her.

"Pippa," I said with mock surprise. "Long time no see."


	4. Part 4: Pippa

**Chapter 4**

**Pippa**

Tarantini Castle, Exidor

When I regained consciousness, all my senses seemed to have heightened to make up for the lack of use for the last- was it hours? Days? I hope not weeks. My eyes stayed shut to keep from blinding myself, but the light was so bright that it was red behind my lids. I tried not to grimace as I heard the door open and close, and four feet made the journey from the door to my bed, one person loudly dragging a chair behind them. They were doing this on purpose to increase my already growing headache. Then with a growing pit in my stomach, and my body hurt all over. I could hear, rather than feel a hand lightly caressing my face. Because while I could not feel the touch directly, I could only register the pressure of the weight resting against it.

"I suppose she won't be coming out of it anytime soon," stated a soft apathetic voice. I didn't know this voice, but it was beautiful and I imagine it went with a pretty face. But it seemed to almost have a twinge of regret in it, but only in the "what a waste" kind of way. "Tell the Queen we did all we could." It was then I decided this was a treacherous voice.

"She's not dead," the second voice sounded exasperated, like this was not her first attempt to write me off. "Give her time for the drugs to wear off and recover from the shock and blood loss." That latter voice started to register, the person it belonged to shuffled about and then left the room. The warm pressure that hovered over my red-glowing eyelids was becoming mildly uncomfortable, but could be alternatively replaced by a blinding white light. I reluctantly opened my eyes.

It wasn't that bad. What was bad was being somewhere unfamiliar with a strange smell wafting about your bed and a strange girl sitting at your bedside casually reading some novel. So, this wasn't a dream, and so that must mean that this girl and whoever's room this belonged to must be working for-

"Mordred," I breathed.

"He's not here right now, he said that he'd be back shortly." The girl had hardly looked up from her book. I was surprised she heard me at all honestly. His name wasn't a difficult one to pronounce, but all the same I wanted to see the face of the girl working alongside my fiancée. Or was he considered my ex? I guessed it looked that way if you didn't know the motives behind the great escape. In hindsight, probably not my brightest move.

It took an ungodly amount of energy to move my head a mere inch or two, so my eyes had to do the rest of the work. I noticed she wore a light blue dress with white embroidery that accented her pale skin and fiery red hair nicely. Her hair was down with the sides pulled up to the back of her head, and I could see that her hair was curly and went well passed her shoulders.

However, my scrutiny of the girl was interrupted by a knock on the door. The girl let out a long sigh and made a large production of marking her page, closing her book, setting it down, getting up and opening the door. I hadn't realized it had been locked before. "Yes?" she asked someone through a crack in the door. Someone said something and she threw me a dirty look. It made me feel uneasy and hated for some unfathomable reason. I needed to get out. I needed to call for help. But my voice never came. The stranger was denied entry and the girl went back to her book. Perhaps out of boredom, I started to dose off again, although, I suspect I've been sleeping for days.

When I woke up the girl was gone; her book apparently finished. However, she reemerged a little later more radiant than before wearing an emerald evening gown, her wild, red ringlets slightly more contained. She floated over to me and sat down again without offering a sideways glance. I heard a key turn in the lock and I shut my eyes. Heavy boots clonked on the stone floor, but the sound became muffled as the walker reached the carpet.

"Has she woken up at all since I left?"

"Yes," the girl replied curtly, a hint of petulance in her voice. "Right after you left, but she's asleep again. You can wake her up if you want. It's not like she needs her beauty sleep."

The big boots walked in my direction, and a large hand slid under my neck and gently lifting my head up. I felt warm lips touch mine and a surge of borrowed power rushed through me. My eyes opened in a flash and I was not surprised by whose face returned my gaze.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty."

I winced as he tried to sit me up, and felt something jab me in the abdomen.

"She's _still_ in pain? Should I call for Morgan?"

"No. I need you to leave Illyana. Now. Come back in an hour."

She tried to protest but he practically threw her out, locking the door. He grabbed a bag that was previously left by the door, and placed it on my lap. "I brought sustenance."

"I'm not hungry," I said automatically.

"Really?" he replied sarcastically. "I was under the impression that this is the first time in four days that you regained consciousness." He waved the food in front of me. We both knew I was lying; I was ravenous. I bit my lip in frustration and grabbed the roll, he sat there quietly, letting me eat without any interruptions, which I found strangely comforting.

"Where am I?"

"Exidor, His Royal Majesty's castle, fourth stairway, twenty-seventh corridor, eighteenth room located on the western side of the castle. As for the answer to your next question, after your mother accepted King Eero's hand in marriage, he invited her to live here. You went missing on a recreational hunting trip about a week ago and you are recovering here from your traumatic fall from a tree until the wedding, which will _finally_ happen three days from today."

"I didn't fall out of a tree."

"Are you sure?" His question caught me off guard and I had to think. _Did I? I must have hit my head and that would explain why everything's a little hazy, but no- I was in the city with- _He interrupted my train of thought. "Ah yes, but I think it sounds better than telling people that at the sight of me, you ran up two flights of stairs into a condemned building and when I followed, you proceeded to jump out the nearest window. What is it with you and windows? Why can't you leave places the normal way? It makes me nervous, and I wish you'd stop doing it. Is any of this coming back to you?"

It wasn't really, but the pain in my abdomen seemed to be creeping up into my chest and congealing into what felt like dread. I was starting to put two and two together… _The pain combined with blood loss? Oh, Grimm_. I promised myself I wouldn't speak of it until- "Why are you here?"

"Oh, you know me. I was just wandering around, and as some cruel trick of fate, I stumbled upon you. Maybe you forgot, perhaps due to your severe head injury, that I was suppose to find you. And find you I did, and then I lost you, and then I found you again. I befriended the dear, local princess after your new boyfriend so rudely fractured my skull-"

"He's not my boyfriend."

He gave me a genuine smile that time, but I wished I had said nothing. "Well, she invited me to stay. I brought you here, and since you are to be her new stepsister, of course you were invited to stay as well. Besides, a month away from mother's nagging, how could I resist?"

His mother, Morgan- "Why is your mother here now?"

And at this, he did not smile. "Why don't you tell me that, eh? You received a pixie from my mother shortly after arriving here, asking where you were. No- don't give me that look- I have every right to open mail sent from my mother while you lay dying from a stupid second story fall. I sent for her, and then she had the audacity to send _me_ away while she 'fixed' the situation at hand. She refused to tell me anything, saying that if you wanted me to know, you would have told me. Now, what's going on?"

I shook my head and hugged my stomach. The truth was weighing heavy on my heart and I had no doubt in my mind what had happened, despite not really remembering how the events of the past few days had transpired. _It was a strong feeling_. When I finally brought myself to meet his eyes, there were tears in my eyes, and I knew that he knew. I tried to explain but it sounded ridiculous, my voice a hoarse whisper. "I was angry at you. I found out around the same time I found out that you were in love with my mother, and that I was the unwanted prize for a job well done." His face was sad and full of regret. "So your mom found me a family to adopt it, and I was going to stay with her till it was all over. And that was that, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore."

"It does matter." He whispered and when I stared into his eyes, I knew he meant it. "I'm sorry. And I told you; it's over between her and me. It has been over for the past ten years. I should have told you our history sooner. But I was worried that you might freak out and leave me, which is exactly what happened just the same. I don't know how many times I can say it, but I am _so_ sorry, and I _will_ make it better."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. This was why I did not want to think about any of this. His magnetic presence pulls me towards him and down that road I was not sure I wanted to go down again. "Tell me the truth. Was all of it a lie to become king? Or just to spite my Mother?"

He grabbed my hand when he spoke. "Listen, when that little boy showed up at your castle eleven years ago, asking to play, he had a one track mind. He still does, but it has changed and that one thing on his mind is you. You at all times. I love you. And sometimes, I know you better than you know yourself."

The real problem in this situation was, how much more of this could I really handle? If I tried to give him up, would he find someone else or try to win back? I thought of the pretty redhead. Jealousy sparked within me and sent shivers down my arms. I tried to wipe them off hastily, but they creeped and crawled all over my body. _Damn my feelings_. I still wanted him.

"I know I distanced you these last couple months, and I said things that I didn't mean, but I just-" I saw hope alight in his face as he leaned in. He wanted this to work too, but I had to put up a hand. "I have to think about it."

There was another knock on the door. I wondered if it was the redhead, no- it couldn't have been an hour yet. The person jiggled the latch and knocked again. Mordred tensed and we heard the person start to fumble with some keys. "It's your Mother," he whispered quickly. "She's the only other person to have a key." Panic widened my eyes. I didn't want to see her, and all the sudden, I didn't know what to do with my hands. Mordred's hands wrapped around my wrists and expelled my panic with a kiss. I heard the latch click, and Mordred had disappeared from sight. His voice buzzed reassurance in my ear, and flew in _Fae_ form onto the bookshelf across from my bed and hid in the shadows.

The door opened and my favorite person walked into the room. "What were you thinking?" she screamed. I rolled my eyes. _Why, hello, Mother, nice to see you too_. "I can't _believe_ you concocted this harebrained scheme with Morgan. Did you ever stop to think of what that kind of disgrace would do to _me_? Years of planning could have been wasted! And on what? Your carelessness." And at this point, she grabbed the redhead's chair and sank into it. Clearly exasperated from the rant she had probably spent days rehearsing until I woke up. "Thank Grimm, you got caught in Illyana's reversal charm. If it wasn't for her… I cringe to think."

The Queen of Heartlessness sighed and continued to shake her head, but my brain was spinning. Was this at least a fraction of the truth of what really transpired? Illyana was the redhead. She reversed something. Ok, think. I never would have really jumped out a window; I would have changed into the phoenix. "So," I began. "I really flew out the window as a phoenix and Illyana… changed me back? And then I fell?"

Anger welled inside me, and I searched for Mordred on the bookshelf. Did he know that? She shouldn't have been treating me with disdain during our time together; she should have been begging for my forgiveness. The Queen of Heartlessness continued, "Of course! You say it like you weren't there. When you were brought to the castle, you had severe internal bleeding, and Mordred sent for Morgan, the last person on earth who I want interfering in my affairs. Fortunately, Eero and his daughter bought the tree story. When Morgan told me what was really going on—I could have strangled all three of you. Especially Modred. How dare he deliberately put my kingdom at risk, the rascal. Anyway, killing Mordred wouldn't have been possible because Eero's daughter has already met him, and how would I explain that, right? This whole thing is just a mess. I thought you should be aware of what you have put me through. Now Eero wants to invite Morgan to the wedding, and I can't very well say no since she's already here. I am just so exhausted by all your shenanigans."

"Affirmative. My fault. Got it."

"All that is not to say that your actions didn't cause a raging scandal." There was no end to her string of word vomit. "Everyone wants to know who you are getting married to ever since you ran off with the Duke's nephew, like a little tramp. The kingdom is buzzing with 'Is the wedding with Mordred called off?' 'I heard he rescued her from the tree debacle.' 'Is Prince Victor more than a visiting friend from the past?' We talked it over, and we decided that the you will announce who you plan on marrying after my wedding-"

"What? We? Who's we?" None of these issues were my problems. Why am I always being punished? "No… no! I am not announcing whom I am going to marrying in three days!"

"Yes, you will or I will decide for you. And if you make me decide, it won't be a happy day."

I folded my arms across my chest. I hated her so much right then. What could I say? I needed her to go away is what I needed.

"Fine. I can see that I am giving you wrinkles. I'll work on deciding the rest of my life in these next two days. Do you think you could spare any of your precious wedding prep time to sit with me and work through some of my feelings?"

She was staring at herself in a pocket mirror- checking to make sure my comment about the wrinkles was fictitious, but at the mention of hanging out with me, discussing someone other than herself, proved to be a mortifying option. "You're right. There is so much I have to do before this wedding. I just do _not_ have the time to sit with you. I will send someone to inform you when and where I need you. I'm glad we have come to this understanding."

I acknowledged her departure at her with a tight-lipped expression, and then waited for Mordred to fly off the shelf and return in his full glory beside my bed.

"Did you enjoy the show?"

"Not at all." He stared at me with a stony expression and I just shrugged my shoulders. "I'm going to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

He didn't answer, but large, cold hands slid under me and scooped me up. He held me close, carrying me quickly through the corridors, and up a couple flights of spiral steps until a gust of cold night air hit my face. I shuddered and clung to his warm chest. The hands sat down carefully and then set me on a lap. I looked up into the clear sky; the stars were out with a full moon.

"I wanted to be with you where no one could overhear." He paused and I felt light fingers trace the raised, pink scar on my chest. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I'm sorry I brought you here. I'm sorry I was such a terrible person. I do things without thinking because I just- I love you so much."

This was too overwhelming- too much from both my mother and him in the same hour time slot. I needed time to decompress, and so my oh so clever response was practically lodged in the back of my throat, unable to break free. _Love makes you irrational_. I touched his stubbly cheek, resting it in the palm of my hand. "I'm sorry I ran."

His gaze finally met mine and his eyes sparkled and danced in the starlight. "I won't let go of you until you answer me truthfully. Do you love me?"

Each word was like a staccato sentence. I thought of the fall in the forest, how he shot me down. There had been no intention to kill because he knew I could not be killed in the form of the phoenix, yet I wanted Victor to think the worse for the shock value. I tested Mordred just as I tested Victor at the pool, although, while I had wanted Victor to save me, I had wanted Mordred to let fly. "I don't love Victor."

"Okay," he began. "Not what I asked, but thanks for the reassurance. I try not to be jealous, but sometimes, I feel like I can never leave you alone- or that I can no longer make you happy."

"Yes."

"Yes? Yes, what? Yes, I can never make you happy, or yes, I can never leave you alone?"

I turned my head to see his face. "Neither. Yes, I still love you. But-" I pulled the diamond ring he gave me off the chain that hung around my neck and put it in his palm. "I'm sorry that I couldn't be the type of girl you deserve."

Minutes passed and my eyes stung as we both stared at his open palm. He looked at me straight in the face. "Stop telling yourself that you are not worthy of love. Don't deny it, I know that is what you think. But when I look at you, I don't see anyone else who is more deserving of someone's love. And I was hoping you'd let me be that person for you."

He put the ring back on my finger, and I shook my head as he just brought me close, hugging me to his chest. He said nothing else, but smiled at me as I listened to the rhythmic thumping of his heart. I stared away then, into the distant sky, thinking how very alike the universe is to life in general. Life is full of endless possibilities, just like the universe is full of stars. These possibilities burn brightly in their time, waiting for someone to come and snatch it. They linger for a while, but time passes and the opportunity fades. True, there are some that come along later that look similar, but you'll never find one quite like that again. Later when you look back, you can trace the sequence of events throughout your life just as easily as if you were tracing the stars in the sky- each one leading to the next, creating your very own unique constellation. It made me wonder what my life's constellation will look like.

A particularly cold wind blew by and Mordred gave me another squeeze. "Come here, you. What are you thinking about?"

"Just stars."


	5. Part 5: Victor

**Chapter 5- ****Victor**

"_Whatever happens, I need you to do exactly what I say, understand?"_

"_What? I mean- ok, I promise. What's going on?"_

"_Run. Run and hide. Meet me by that willow in an hour. No- out the back door- they'll see you!"_

"_Who?"_

"_And if I'm not there, go back to Vendocia. Do not follow. Find the Tracker. He'll know what to do. Stop- go!"_

_**Vendocia**_

There's no use in trying to surprise someone who can see into the future, and the fact that she is blind is no real advantage to me either. Her personal Seeing Eye Dog, Wesley, is constantly with her and can alert her to my presence if I somehow slip under the radar. As if that would ever happen. A most peculiar paradox. Nonetheless, I tried my best.

It is a royal tradition in Vendocia, at the end of each week, if the weather permits, to have picnic in order for the royal family to spend quality time together. Although I am the only one left of the immediate Vendocian royal family, my aunt and her family still carry on the tradition. And since the weather was so nice...

Leaving my horse in the stables, I hiked up the grassy knoll to the meadow where we hold our weekly picnic. The knoll was covered with tall grass, flowers and huge boulders that perhaps used to be giants' play things. The boulders embedded in the hill allowed for infinite hiding places as I made my way to the picnic site. When my aunt's family came into view, I dropped to all fours. I slowly raised my hand, propelling it through the daisies and cattails that barred my path and pushing them silently aside. Lowering the obstructions to the ground, I continued to creep forward. I slithered cautiously, determined not to trigger the sight, until the mention of my name halted all movement. I crouched low in the grass, ready to pounce.

"Victor's coming."

_Damn it all, the fun ruiner. _The girl who spoke grabbed a walking stick, pushed herself up and looked around aimlessly. "He'll be very vexed with me for spoiling his fun, he wanted to surprise us. He looks terrible, but nothing a good bath won't fix. He's spent a good deal of time on the forest floor."

"Not as vexed as I will be after he attempts to justify why he ran off," her mother retorted.

After being orphaned at a young age, my aunt, the Duchess, did not hesitant to fill in as my proper mother figure. She worried about us constantly, but luckily for me, Giselle needed more of the attention. "Will you be alright my darling with just that little twig?"

"Mother," the girl said pointedly to a shrubbery close to where her mother's voice had emanated. "I can handle it." Aunt Avery seemed to be appeased and then looked longingly at the Duke's apple. I watched as my cousin conveniently walked over in the direction where I crouched- paralyzed in anticipation. She stared out blankly and I knew it was time. I hurtled myself at her, only to miss by a hair and went face first into the dirt.

She smiled in satisfaction. "Wesley has been teaching me to utilize my gift to anticipate foreseeable things, such as," and she looked down where the sound of my thud had reverberated "'_pou_nces'."

"So, where is your dear Wesley? I like a few words with him about how you two spend your free time."

Despite my resentment about the fact that I was face down in the dirt because of him; Wesley was a good guy. He had been with us for three years now, and was a complete Godsend. He is probably the only person I would ever enlist to help me out, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for Giselle.

"Mother wouldn't let me bring him along today, but… speak of the devil." She stared forward blankly, and I waited to hear what she saw. "He saw your horse in the stable and is running over." She sat there then, unmoving, waiting for him before the conversation continued any farther. I should have known he would be the one to find me out. His powers of observation surpassed anyone I knew. Three minutes later, a very out of breath Wesley arrived.

"Hey," he puffed, looking at me bent over with his hands on his knees. "Where – have – you – been?"

"Breathe, friend. I will tell after you have sufficiently recovered. What's been happening here?"

"Ah Victor, you trouble maker you. Mother was completely frantic when she got Father's letter saying that you rode ahead and disappeared. We didn't know what to do, but I told Mother that you would show up soon, so all we could do was wait. Wesley almost went to find you, but in the end it wasn't necessary. However, I must say, you got back in the nick of time."

"Why?" I asked as Wesley rolled his eyes.

"Why, for the wedding! Between the queen of Rhymes and the king of Exidor, we were all invited, even Wesley, and even though he says he won't go, _I know he will_." She reached a satisfied hand over and laid it on Wesley's chest, he looked less than thrilled at this news.

I shrugged my shoulders to show solidarity on the "not that excited or wanting to go" front. "That is, uh, very exciting Giselle. Tell me more?" The question ended more as a confused statement, but I let that go. I glanced over to see that this topic of conversation made Wesley very irritated, almost as if he'd had to hear this terrible tale many times before. With Giselle, he probably had.

"Oh," Giselle replied; she seemed as surprised as Wesley by my interest and sat up straight. "It's great. The king of Exidor and queen of Rhymes are to be married in a week, uniting the two kingdoms in a temporarily alliance. That is, until their heirs break it through their own marriages, which will probably be soon, because get this, the story gets ten times better. The wedding between the Princess of Rhymes and that gorgeous rogue is back on. Although, nobody else knows he is one of those Fae, and he's been shape shifting for years to match her age. Wesley told me that-"

"In confidence."

I mimed Giselle's big mouth with my hands, as a way to silently communicate that he should known better. Wesley shrugged and dutifully returned his attention to Giselle.

"And it's too bad I didn't see that they'd be back together sooner or you'd never have had to go on that trip to Rhymes and disappear like you did. It turns out that her fiancé was a phantom do-gooder called the Midnight Marauder. And apparently, she got kidnapped from her room in the dead of night, and he found her only after she had been dragged halfway to Exidor, but he was unable to get her back. Only when he reached Exidor, with the help from some good friends did he get her back. She also fell out of a tree or something- my ending got a little muddled. But isn't that the most exciting thing you have ever heard?"

I sat confused. My interest had been peaked at the mention of her title, but the description of the events was wrong, especially if this story implied _I_ was the kidnapper. Wesley looked like he didn't believe it either. Could she be speaking of Mordred? If he really was a Fae that _would_ mean that he did possess an unfair advantage over me. I felt a little indignant over it. I tried to think of how many days it has been since I lost Pippa in Exidor… Damn, he works fast.

I thought for a second that her mother might be in on it as well, but probably not. My father used say her Mother was the self-absorbed type with no time for anyone else unless it was for personal gain, and I see no gain for her in this scenario. I had to get back there as quickly as possible; Pippa is waiting for me.

Giselle let a long exasperated sigh. "Living vicariously through others is the most fun I've had in weeks. Victor, are you still there?" Giselle reached futilely through the empty air for me, but Wesley caught her hand instead. I had been so tense that I hadn't even realized that I stopped breathing.

"He's here." Wesley said to her, but then he turned to me. "What's wrong?"

Where to start? I was so confused. I was starting to realize that I hadn't been told much. I didn't really even know the point of our excursion; I just wanted to be with her. I wanted to defend her- defend myself, my actions, but all I managed to croak out was, "It's not true."

Lame, I know.

"Well, duh! It's just ridiculous gossip made up by castle maid servants." Wesley still retained that look of semi-annoyance that he had ever since Giselle had started the story, but of course she couldn't have known how much it bothered him as long as his voice remained composed, which it usually was, flawlessly. "That so-called 'gorgeous rogue' is a despicable representation of our kind, and he is only surpassed by his mother and the famous assassins- the Vixen and the Viper. Do you honestly think that anyone that calls himself the 'Midnight Marauder' can be good?"

Giselle and I both stared at him. While she brooded, questions from the past week burned within me. "Wes, what do you know?"

"Victor, you always ask the wrong questions," he sighed. "It's not what I know, it's who I know. When you've lived as long as I have, you learn to make friends all over."

I raised an eye brow. "You're can't be that much older than me. How old are you?"

"Two hundred and ninety-seven." Wes stated this without the slightest inflection.

"What? No really, come on."

"Victor," Giselle said with a self-satisfied grin. "You really need to use your head more. Don't you see? He is one of them; Wes is a Fae."

I stared at him in shock. The only Faes I have ever heard of were power-hungry villains who had to be taken down. Wes was kind. He couldn't be one of them. It just didn't make sense. And he was laughing at me. "Stop it, this is not funny," I said. I smacked him with the bag I was holding. The one Pippa gave me to protect.

Wes stopped laughing. "What's in the bag, Victor?"

It was the first time, since she had entrusted me with the knife, that I dared to remove it from its hiding place. We had found it the night before she sent me away to keep it safe. She trusted me to keep it safe. I must have hit him pretty hard to make him curious, but I trusted him and handed it over to him to examine.

"Who gave this to you and why?" His face was all seriousness, a mask he seldom wore.

"The girl I was with. This guy named Mordred and two of his cohorts were following us, so she gave it to me for safekeeping. I guess I'll give it back to her at the wedding."

Something strange passed across Wes' face, but before I could identify it, it was gone and he was composed. "She'll be at the wedding? Interesting. And by following you meant you were pursued, and by cohorts you meant Mordred's Discontented Men." He laughed, and the sound was soothing to my nerves.

I laughed too, but something that Giselle said jogged my memory. "Well not necessary just men. There was a girl with him, which reminds me- something has been bothering me. In the story you told me she fell out of a tree? Your story as a whole story hangs onto fabrics of truth. While I was running to the willow tree where we were supposed to meet, she was flying, as a bird, but some sort of force field stopped her and transformed back into her human form in midair. I think that's where they got the story of her falling, but what happened to her after that? Is she okay?"

"You mean you didn't go back for her?" Giselle sounded shocked.

"She told me not too!" I quickly interjected before Wes started in too. "I was supposed to take the stuff and come back here to find the Tracker. But I don't know who that is, which why I wanted to ask Wes for help since he knows the locals… Wes?"

Wes rolled his eyes and shook his head. I restrained myself to let him speak first. Maybe he already knew who the Tracker was- he knew practically everyone in town and was always so helpful when something needed to be found. Wes gave me a sad smile that I did not understand. "I can't help you," he began. "If you are going to be withholding information from me."

"I-"

"Why did you fail mention that the "girl" you were with was Princess Philippa of Rhymes?"

"I- H-how did you know?" The intensity of Wes' stare was starting to bore into me.

"Because I am the Tracker, former bodyguard of both the late King Felix and Pippa."

Giselle and I gasped in unison. "What?"

"Last time we spoke, she was on her way to Morgana, Mordred's mother." His face puckered like he had tasted a lemon, and I noticed that I was sitting on the edge of my seat. "There were some time sensitive issues pressing, but I thought I had persuaded her to come here first. Obviously she got distracted."

"We were ambushed!"

Wes raised an eyebrow. "And why, pray tell, did you follow? Following a harbored boyhood crush? She's engaged. I don't know what she told you, but don't delude yourself; she'll never give him up. She'll say he's awful, they'll have a horrible fight, and they'll be back together in a week."

"It's not like that!"

"Then what is it like?"

I had no answer to that. I had been starting to reevaluate the time we spent together. I thought that there was something there, but now I wasn't so sure. I knew she had _been_ engaged_,_ but she hadn't been wearing her ring. I assumed she was running from him. "I don't know anymore. She was coming to you? What for?"

"That's not for me to say. However, one thing is certain, I'm coming with you to that wedding, but," and he stared at Giselle with a broad smile, "you knew that already."

"I'm so glad you reconsidered. I knew you would."

"Now think Victor, the girl, the one with Mordred, did she have pale skin and curly red hair? And what did the other one look like?"

"Yes she did, but I didn't get a good look of the other one. He was tall and had dark hair- black or maybe dark brown?"

"We need to continue this discussion elsewhere. Elle, tell your parents Victor is tired and they can yell at him tomorrow. We're going back to the castle."

"Is this bad? What are we going to do?"

"Yes this is bad, Mordred is working with the Vixen and the Viper."

"Ok yeah, but I'm sure they're not that dangerous, I mean, I bet you could taken them. You're a Fae too, and we have that special knife- I'm sure it's important to the plan."

"What plan? And, not that dangerous? Only you would think that two infamous assassins, who are named after crafty, poisonous animals, would not pose a threat. Come on Victor, give me _some_thing to work with."

"Ok let's go." Giselle had returned, "But we'll move faster if one of you carries me."

"I'll do it. With one stipulation. Victor has to tell us the whole story on the way back."


End file.
